


Arima's Birthday

by forlornfortuity



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 18:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10169279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forlornfortuity/pseuds/forlornfortuity
Summary: An Arima/Aura fic invoving a birthday surprise.





	

No word could possibly describe this gift. There still remained many unwrapped, but Arima is baffled by this one; a tall and decorative bedroom mirror which Kiyoko placed in their shared room while he was away from home. “It’s lovely.” His spoken words are terse, preceding the completion of his sentence. “However, I wonder what is its purpose?” Appearances, he never gave it much thought beyond the basics, having a clean shaven face, neatly brushed hair, and so on. He wasn’t customarily obsessed with looks to an extent he’d enjoy staring at his own reflection for an elongated period; it was only a tool that helped him prepare for work and other activities.

Soundlessly, Aura merely shakes her head. Her attempt to suppress her laughter has proved utterly successful. Teasing him was her specialty and he’d fall victim to her cruel japes once more like previous times. Using his shoulder for support, she stands at the tip of her feet, to murmur suggestively near the shell of his ear. “You know its practical uses, but… I was thinking we could test it for something else entirely.” Normally, this would slip right through his mind, but her daring lilt made it too conspicuous for him to ignore, he plays it off nonchalantly. “Oh? What are you proposing? I’m highly intrigued.” She flashes him a kittenish simper that evinces confidence and allurement. He knows what it means and he has no protests against it.

“Let’s find out, or are you reluctant?” Arima emits a small huff of amusement. “Not at all. I’m eager to try it.” Kiyoko guides him to the front of the mirror and phlegmatically unfastens his belt, but doesn’t remove it. Instead, she unbuttons his pants and drags the zipper down to its base. To her shock, he’s not wearing any undergarments. “It seems I’m not the only one full of surprises… now am I?” He’s normally not so cheeky, she wonders what could’ve put him up to skipping out on it. “I had surmised this would involve more than just gifts, I was merely prepared.” How perceptive of him, to not be caught fully unaware. This was already promising to be a delectable moment of mutual gratification. “Watch me,” she hums. He’s unsure by what she means as she begins to undress albeit not completely. Aura is full figured, her supple breasts are carefully cupped by her bra, and her skirt hugs her curvaceous hips; the tightness of it granting a pleasant view of the sculpt of her backside.

If this was part of her benefaction, it was working. Solely observing her beauty, grace, and voluptuous form was enough to grant him some form of elation. Her hand moves to tug the skirt above her thighs, so he catches a hint of her silken panties. Part of him wants to feel her through the fabric, but he refrains, opting to unbutton his shirt. “Are you ready, love?” Her voice is gentle and caring, a juxtaposition to how merciless she could be in several situations that involved this and other practices. Even so, there’s a sense of fulfillment that is derived from eroticized torment, Kishou is fascinated by it. “Do as you will, darling.” He feels the heat of her body behind him as a single hand slithers down his chest onto the rippling muscles of his abdomen; creeping just over his groin. He closes his eyes, but she gives a harsh squeeze to his posterior with her free hand, nails digging into the firm yet plump flesh there; causing his lids to flutter open behind his spectacles. “Keep your eyes open, I want you to look at yourself as this continues.” He only firmly nods, and she presses a kiss to the side of his neck for his obedience.

Her palm slowly eases into his pants as she begins to stroke him lightly, he’s not one to succumb very easily, and makes no hint of noise. How stubborn could he be? She’d endeavor to see him undone and have him witness it for himself. Her other slips away from his rump up along his back taking in the structure of his rachis along with the sensation of thewy mass there. Arima’s back has always been particularly sensitive, but he still makes no sound to her discontentment. “Why do you resist it? Lose yourself to the euphoria you’ll soon feel.” Her intonation is lusty and low pitched, it elicits a faint tint of pink to spread across his cheeks and he can see it in the reflection. Tugging at his dress shirt, she exposes his shoulder and presses a gentle kiss there, as her other hand has resumed what it started. Her strokes are incredibly calculated, alternating between various speeds and technique, all to rid him of flaccidity. He yearns for greater friction, and pushes himself against her palm as he begins to stiffen. “Well, aren’t you hasty? Patience, Kishou. We’ll get there.”

Her digits shift to solidly grasp his length, as she relentlessly begins to pump him with astounding dexterity. At long last, she engendered a throaty groan, his cheeks are notably more flushed than earlier; which only encourages her to continue. The image of himself in the mirror makes it somewhat shameful, he doesn’t delight himself too much in appearing vulnerable, but Aura was skilled and knew his weaknesses all too well. Her kisses are carefully planted along his shoulder and neck, where she lingers; nibbling at the pallid skin tenderly which only fueled his desire. It was undeniable how good she made all of it feel. With her frequent jerking, incessant rubbing, and unabated osculates; he feels himself nearing the edge but right when he’s close to it, she stops. He grunts dissatisfied. “Why did you cease?” She chuckles against his shoulder. “I know fully well, you can achieve it more than once, but imagine delaying it? How explosive you could be?” Her teasing has its way of making him feel rather abashed; a rare feat. “You’re so beautiful, Kishou, especially when you’re susceptible like this.”

Little did she know her goading, in contrast to making him embarrassed any further, would only stoke up his ardency. “I tire of these games. I will have what I want.” She’s not intimidated by the assertive statement, frankly, he could be very attractive when he was forceful. “What is that which you want and how will you attain it?” In a span of a few seconds the position is switched, she’s in front of the mirror, and he’s behind her. It took a while for it to register, after all, while he wasn’t one for words, he compensated for it with plenty of action. “There’s nothing I want more than you, Kiyoko.” His utterance is astonishingly libidinous, but he doesn’t allow her time to react to his words; as his hands roam her body without abandon. The base of her neck, the curve of her spine; while his opposite greedily gropes one of her breasts; kneading it through the satin of her brassiere. Mature as she is composed, she only thrums and sighs softly; relishing the attention he’s giving her body.

He leans over her to voraciously bite at her neck as he bends her sinuous figure beneath him. Hungry, wasn’t a word that could describe Arima, but he was remarkably ravenous when it came to his lover, Kiyoko. One of his hands is now settled at her hip squeezing at it, while the other is amid her legs, stroking her through the material of her lingerie. With him this close to her, she retaliates, by pushing the curvature of her ass against his loins. This earns her a sharp hiss from him, but equally fortifies his passion. He had been complacent enough with the glacial pace, that would change eventually. His fingers are swift, hooking into her panties, dragging the garment down to her thighs. She’s still wearing the skirt and he has no intention of removing the article of clothing, it feels almost impure leaving it on which contains a degree of appeal.

He’s aligning himself as he plunges his way into her warmth, a contrast to the agonizingly slow caresses. Her sleekness is far more inviting, provoking a feral growl out of him. He steadies her a bit and hazards a second thrust with added power. Arima finds it surprising Aura doesn’t even buckle, the strength of her well-defined and shapely legs keeping her firmly grounded. Utilizing this to her advantage, she grinds back against his throbbing shaft roughly, causing him to gasp. He’s gorgeous when he’s lost to dissolute pleasure, she will recall the face he made for a long time to come.

Regaining his equilibrium, he intensified the ramming of his hips against her; the sound of skin slapping onto skin was pellucidly audible. Moist folds only usher in the thick, long, and pulsing member that ruthlessly ravages her needy interior; as wanton moans mellifluously flow out of her throat. His method changes while he quickens the tempo and decelerates, fluctuating his procedure to achieve an agreeable rhythm to match one another. Beads of sweat are dripping from his soma and her own is lightly coated in perspiration, inclusively. This doesn’t deter him, however, as he repeatedly pounds into her too blissfully with licentious and heavy breaths. Her knees are feeling weak, but what truly brings her to the summit is that final thrust; he’s delved himself down to the hilt. Still buried inside of her, she drenches him as his own load spurts within her decadent depths. The likeness of his statuesque build towering over her diminutive physique as he was thoroughly submerged in her enclosure was the sight that drove him to that pinnacle.

Hugging her to his chest, he cradles her body, until every last drop has finally gushed forth with a rapturous and husky cry. When he pulls out, the farrago of secretions trickles along her inner thighs a little. “I’ve never felt you erupt so violently quite like that before…” There is a gap betwixt her words as she tries to steady her breathing. He’s in no better condition, panting, as he steals a glance of his and her image in the mirror. Both look like an absolute mess; but he finds it stimulating all the same. “My legs are still shaking,” she faintly muttered. With a smirk, he responded. “But they didn’t cave, my implacability must be greater the next time we try again.”

She scoffs at him. “Surely, you’re capable of it. Why don’t we use the remainder of the night for some fun? We have the vim and vigor for it.” Kishou is entertained by her taunt. “We shall, I’d prefer we use something besides the mirror to switch things around.” Her hands cup his face and pull him down for a tenderhearted kiss. “I suppose you have ideas, or shall I suggest any? It’s your birthday, and there is still so much left to try.”

Arima was grateful to have a partner as magnetizing, strong, ravishing, loving, intelligent, and most importantly understanding as Aura. He wouldn’t trade her for anyone else. “You’ve been munificent with your gifts, but I’ll take every single one. Even this…” Muscular arms encompass her lissome frame, as he kisses her perfervidly; his adrenaline running wild as he has her tightly pressed against him. His tongue breaches her lips, basking in the honeyed taste of her mouth. She massages his broad and rigid chest as she avidly sucks on his lips, before biting the bottom one hard enough to bruise it. He can feel himself growing erect again. “Neither of us will sleep tonight if it continues like this.” His seductive susurration makes Kiyoko grin as her nails gently scrape his thorax. “Rest was never part of your birthday plan, darling.” Lifting her in his arms bridal style, he presses his nose against hers; in turn she nuzzles him. He begins to carry her away and provocatively licks her lips prior to whispering against her labial. “I’m glad it isn’t.”


End file.
